Supernatural: Snapshots
by SilveryMoon34
Summary: Snapshots, or moments, from the life of John Winchester. A series of loosely connected drabbles and such centering around John's point of view. Rated T just to be on the safe side.


**In My Time of Dying, from John's perspective (with actual lines from the scene) First snapshot from John's life.**

_Dean is dying Dean is dying Dean is dying_

The words, the mantra, the war song, pounded in his head in time with the headache, forcing his broken body to move faster. He ignored its cries of protest, his mind focused on one thing only. Only one viable option was left to him now.

It was time for him to meet his white whale.

He dropped his bag on the dusty boiler room floor. He knelt, knees popping, clearing his mind of everything but the summoning ritual.

He watched his hand draw the necessary lines, steadily, with focused but detached attention, as if watching someone else draw them. Bobby, perhaps.

This was it. All that chasing, the hunts, the long nights in the dark, musty old hotel rooms, racking every brain cell he had to figure out the bastard's plan…this was the end of the road.

Quietly, he intoned the incantation, grimacing as he drew his own blood, letting it drip into the bowl with the rest of the 'ingredients'. The smell of the burning match cut through the must, growing sharper as the ingredients combusted in their little bowl.

_It's done_. John stood up, eyes ghosting across all corners of the room, waiting. The detachment was gone, every muscle pulled tight automatically, ready to spring. Injured or not, John would never allow himself to be an easy target.

_Come on, you yellow-eyed bitch. You know what I've got, and you know what I want_.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, the one attached to his busted arm. He let out a small breath, turning quickly, as if startled.

"What the hell are you doing down here, buddy?"

"I can explain."

"Yeah? You gonna explain to Security. Come on, follow me."

_Oh, Yellow Eyes. Did you think it would be that easy?_ He drew the colt, cocking it. "Hey."

The man turned around, fear flashing in his eyes. John smirked. Quite the actor, his white whale. "How stupid do you think I am?"

The man smiled back, eyes glowing yellow. "You really want an honest answer to that?"

Two possessed people, a doctor and a patient, going by their clothes, appeared, walking past Yellow Eyes to take up posts just behind John. They didn't make a move on him; not yet anyway.

"You conjuring _me_, John? I'm surprised. I took you for a lot of things, but _suicidally reckless _wasn't one of them."

"I could always shoot you." And he could. Take the threat out before his goons could sink their claws into his back. End it all now, at long last. But that wasn't the purpose of this. Because somewhere along the way, this became more about revenge than about protection. Because now a life hung in the balance once more, and he'd rather be damned than let it slip away again.

"You could always miss," the demon laughed. "And you've only got one try, don't cha?" The smile slipped from the bastard's face. "Did you _really_ think you could trap me?"

And now, the moment arrived. "Oh, I don't wanna trap you." For emphasis he lowered the gun, uncocked it. "I wanna make a deal."

The smile was back. Yellow Eyes paced in front of him. "It's very unseemly, making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?"

Ironic, coming from a demon. And unnecessary. He knew exactly what this was, where it was heading. "It's no trick. I will give you the colt, and the bullet, but you gotta help Dean."

Those damn eyes lit up, and he moved closer, just a bit. "You gotta bring him back."

"Why John, you're a sentimentalist. If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them."

_Stop dancing around it, you bastard_. "It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do about Dean." Sammy's own words, twisted to fit the situation.

"Don't be so sure," the demon snapped back, losing its cool for the first time. "He killed some people that were very special to me. But still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat, and neither is your other son, of course."

It was a bald-ass lie, and they both knew it.

"You know the truth, right? About Sammy and the other children?"

Of course he did. "Yeah. I've known for a while."

"But Sam doesn't, does he? You've been playing _dumb_."

"_Can you bring Dean back?_ Yes, or no."

"No. But I know somebody who can. It's not a problem."

John resisted the urge to allow himself to relax. This wasn't over yet. "Good." _Conditions_. "But before I give you the gun, I'm gonna wanna make sure Dean's okay. With my own eyes."

Yellow Eyes pretended to look hurt. "Oh John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?"

John smiled. _About as far as I can throw your yellow-eyed ass_.

The demon snorted, almost as if he'd heard that thought. "_Fine_."

"So we have a deal?"

"No, John, not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot."

And there it was. The main event all the foreplay had been leading up to. "With what?"

Yellow Eyes moved closer, so they were almost nose to nose. "Something else I want, as much as that gun, maybe even more."

"My soul."

The demon grinned. "Ring-a-ding-ding! We have a winner!"

'_He'd rather be damned'?_ He was going to get his wish. He took in a deep breath. "Done."

The demon's eyes glittered. "Then we have a deal."

**A/N: **Sorry that it isn't very original fanfic wise. I'm still trying to learn John's voice. More to come if you guys don't hate me for this.


End file.
